


In Your Wildest Dreams

by vintagelilacs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Bottom Merlin (Merlin), Canon Era, Dream Sex, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magic Ban Lifted (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Post-Magic Reveal, Sex Magic, Sexual Fantasy, Throne Sex, Top Arthur, Top Merlin (Merlin), magical mishaps, misuse of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagelilacs/pseuds/vintagelilacs
Summary: “So, I may have slightly misread the spell? I thought it sends pleasant dreams, but it actually sendspleasuredreams. And it sort of created a link between us so that every time you have a sex dream—which is often, apparently—I can see it.”Arthur stared for a long while. When he spoke, it was in a careful diction, each word enunciated clearly. “Youare anidiot.”For once, Merlin had to agree.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 1038





	In Your Wildest Dreams

Repealing the ban on magic proved to be a lengthy, complex, and surprisingly dull process constantly bogged down by internal conflict and concerns. Merlin had spent years dreaming of the ban’s abolishment, but whenever he’d imagined it, Arthur had simply given the decree that magic was welcome in Camelot and ushered in an era of peace and tranquility.

‘Peaceful’ was the last word Merlin deemed fit to describe the state of the council chamber.

When Arthur first arranged a meeting between the Knights of the Round Table, the knight hopefuls, his royal advisors—of which Gwen was included—and all the high-ranking nobles of Camelot, no one had known what to expect. Arthur hadn’t given Merlin any indication of the meeting’s purpose, and most shockingly, hadn’t asked Merlin to write a speech for him. The best guess anyone seemed to have was that they were going to war with a neighbouring kingdom.

Everyone in attendance seemed to take a collective breath as Arthur gestured for Merlin to sit, before taking his own seat at the table. It was the same sort of heavy, expectant mood that falls over a tavern right before a fight breaks out.

No one was more surprised than Merlin when Arthur broached the idea of repealing the ban on magic. Arthur had known about Merlin’s magic for a few weeks now, after an incidental slip-up. He hadn’t reacted too poorly, given that Merlin’s neck was unsevered and the pyre still hadn’t been lit, but Merlin hadn’t expected Arthur’s readiness to lift the ban.

Arthur’s proposition was met with uneasy laughter, and half the council seemed to think he was jesting. When Arthur’s expression didn’t shift, the nervous laughter petered out.

Unsurprisingly, it was one of the older knights Uther had handpicked who was the first to break the silence. “You can’t possibly intend to decriminalize sorcery!”

“I do not wish to decriminalize sorcery,” Arthur answered. The nobleman looked momentarily appeased. “I wish to legalize it.”

The council burst into uproar. Merlin stayed silent, wiping his clammy palms on his trousers.

Arthur held up his hand, before leveling the nobleman the same menacing look used to cow his opponents on the battlefield. “The current ban is discriminatory, and arguments in favour of it are weak and erroneous.”

“It’s clear his majesty is ensorcelled!” one of the nameless nobles cried out. Merlin couldn’t remember who the pompous git was, only that he’d been a respected associate of Uther’s.

Leon attempted to establish order but was unable to stem the ensuing debate that King Arthur had either gone mad or was being controlled by a devious sorcerer.

Arthur rose to his feet, a smooth and soundless motion that nevertheless silenced the arguing nobles. He cleared his throat. “While I hoped to reach consensus among the council, I cannot in good conscience allow the ban to continue. I am of course willing to discuss any concerns.”

By the time several hours had elapsed and the moon had risen, Arthur had made little progress convincing his so-called advisors and council members. The Knights of the Round Table spoke in favour of legalizing sorcery, and Gwen was the voice of reason in dismissing some of the more ridiculous fears surrounding the nullification of the ban. Merlin was warmed by their support. Unfortunately, they appeared to be in the minority.

Simply overruling the council wouldn’t yield success. Fear of magic had been ingrained in Camelot’s citizens for decades, and their deep-rooted distrust of sorcery wouldn’t be dispelled over night. The last thing Arthur wanted was to incite a revolt.

At last Arthur announced that the meeting was adjourned, and that they would resume in the morning. Merlin stumbled after Arthur in a stupor, nearly tripping over his own feet as he crossed into Arthur’s bedchambers. The past few hours felt like a surreal fever dream. Merlin was half afraid it would turn out to be a hallucination or a figment of his imagination.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.” Arthur set his crown aside and turned expectantly. When Merlin didn’t immediately begin undressing him, his brow furrowed. “Merlin? Are you all right?”

Merlin blinked back the sudden sting of tears. He felt suddenly on the verge of crying, or maybe throwing his arms around Arthur’s neck and finally kissing him like he’d wanted to for years. He suppressed both urges, knowing neither would be appropriate or welcome.

“Fine. I’m fine. I just didn’t expect…”

“Ah. I suppose I should have given you some advance warning. I’d wanted to surprise you, but it couldn’t have been the best surprise, given the reception. A bloody mess is what that was.” He scrubbed a tired hand over his face. “Gaius told me not to expect a positive reception, but I didn’t expect the lot of them to accuse me of being enchanted.”

“Gaius knew?”

“Hm?”

“He never told me.”

“Well, I did make him swear to secrecy. Like I said, it was meant to be a surprise for you.”

“For me?” Merlin’s breath hitched. “You’re repealing the ban for me?”

Arthur frowned. “Well, not _just_ for you. I see now that my father’s laws were wrong, and I’ve been complicit in the mistreatment of sorcerers for too long. Gaius has been answering a lot of my questions on sorcery. I used to view it as…” he paused, ruminating on his words. “…similar to an opiate addiction, something one actively chooses to indulge in whilst knowing that it brings harm to others. I see now that it’s not a choice, that it’s…” Arthur waved his hand, searching for the right word. “Intrinsic.”

“So, you don’t think I’m evil and wicked and conspiring to take over Camelot?” Merlin confirmed, only half-joking.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not competent enough to conspire anything.”

“Then what am I competent enough for?”

“Readying me for bed, obviously.”

Merlin smiled softly. He hadn’t thought it possible to fall more in love with Arthur than he already was, but the prat had proven him wrong. “Of course, sire.”

If his hands lingered a little longer than usual on Arthur’s skin when he dressed him for bed, neither of them acknowledged it.

* * *

When Merlin arrived the next morning Arthur was already dressed, albeit sloppily.

“You’re up early,” he observed.

Arthur grunted. “Couldn’t sleep.”

That was a shame. Merlin, personally, had had the best sleep of his life. “Allow me, sire.” Merlin bridged the distance between them. His nimble fingers made quick work undoing the buttons.

Arthur made a strangled noise. Merlin glanced up, alarmed, to see a flush beginning to spread across Arthur's cheeks.

“The, er, buttons were in the wrong holes?”

Merlin must have imagined the disappointment that flashed across Arthur's face. “Right. Of course.”

Arthur was silent as he performed his daily ablutions and picked at his breakfast. His movements were slow and mechanical as he plodded to the council chamber for another day of arguing and rehashing the same debates. Merlin trailed behind him with a spring in his step. The courtiers may view sorcery as monstrous, but their prejudice wasn’t enough to dampen his spirits. He had Arthur’s support and acceptance, and that was what mattered most.

When Arthur finally impressed that his decision would not be swayed, the council argued how to proceed, and debated recourse for undoing years of anti-magic propaganda.

Geoffrey pointed out it wasn’t enough to simply legalize magic—they would need to regulate it. Debates ensued over whether sorcerers should be taxed more because of their inherent advantage over non-sorcerers, or if such a tax would be discriminatory.

Arthur’s eyes looked glazed over by the middle of it.

Merlin never anticipated the legislative and rule-breaking process to be so difficult. The next few days didn’t fare much better.

“Perhaps they would react better to legalizing magic if they had a demonstration of what magic can do when it’s not being used to harm?” He suggested. “I could show them how wonderful magic can be.” He’d performed his magic for Arthur back when it had first been inadvertently revealed. The performance hadn’t been inordinately impressive, but Merlin had still been proud of his conjured, glowing butterflies.

“No,” Arthur answered without a moment’s consideration.

“Why not?”

“I will not put you at risk. Many of them are confused and angry. They might turn that anger on you, or else accuse you of enchanting me. Your magic is to remain secret until the motion is finalized.”

Merlin wasn’t sure whether to be touched by Arthur’s concern, or irritated that Arthur thought he needed protecting. He didn’t push the issue.

It was just as well because Merlin was unable to attend the next few meetings anyway. His time was monopolized by an outbreak of croup in the children of the lower town. He aided Gaius in making a mustard seed paste to help clear phlegm from the lungs and an onion poultice to help soothe deep-seated coughing. 

At the end of the week, Arthur drew Merlin aside. He looked haggard from lack of sleep, the whites of his eyes shot through with red, and the shadows under his eyes more pronounced than Merlin had ever seen them. Arthur’s voice was roughened from lack of sleep, and his rumbling baritone sent a shiver down Merlin’s spine. “Would it be completely immoral if I asked you to cast a spell on the courtiers to make them shut the hell up?” 

“Still arguing, are they?” 

“It’s exhausting. Between training with the knights, listening to the complaints of peasants, overseeing the tax revenue, organizing the weekly patrols, and arguing with the council, I haven’t had a moment’s peace.” 

Merlin smiled weakly. “I’m not sure using my magic on the council would do a good job convincing them to lift the ban.”

“Maybe not,” Arthur agreed. “But it would save me a world of trouble. And help me get a decent rest, for a change.”

“Are you still not sleeping?” Merlin asked, even though the answer was obvious. 

“No.” 

“Well, if you'd like to trade beds, you're welcome to mine.” Merlin would willingly exchange his straw-filled cot for Arthur's swan-feather filled mattress and sumptuous pillows any night.

Arthur didn’t so much as crack a smile at Merlin’s joke. 

“Is there any specific reason why you can’t sleep?” Merlin knew it was a long shot asking Arthur to confide in him. The royal prat was practically allergic to admitting weakness. 

He sighed. “I keep replaying the council meetings in my head at night. I'm afraid an agreement will never be reached, and that even if the motion moves forward, there will be uprisings and witch hunts in the streets.”

“It will all work out,” Merlin mollified. “You can't reasonably expect them to change their opinions on sorcery so swiftly.”

“It's not just that. I keep having dreams that you—” Arthur cut himself off abruptly. 

“That I'll what?” Merlin cocked his head. “I would never use my magic to hurt anyone, Arthur. Even if the ban isn't lifted. I would never turn on you.”

“I'm not worried about that.” Arthur sounded annoyed.

“Then what?”

He shook his head, lips tight with refusal.

Merlin held back a sigh. “Have you spoken to Gaius about your bad dreams?” 

“No. I was actually wondering if you could, you know.” Arthur shuffled his feet and made a spasmodic gesture with his hands.

“What?”

“Do something about it?”

“You want me to make you a sleeping draught?”

“Your magic, you imbecile!”

“Oh. You want me to use magic to get rid of your bad dreams?”

Arthur nodded. “Or replace them with good dreams.”

Warmth suffused Merlin’s chest. Arthur not only tolerated his magic but was actively seeking it out.

“Assuming that’s something you’re capable of,” Arthur added. 

“Of course!” He probably could, anyway. He’d never cast any sort of spell like it before but sending good dreams couldn’t have been too difficult. He was almost certain he’d spied the exact spell necessary in the grimoire Gaius had bequeathed him years ago. “I’ll need to prepare.” 

“When will the spell be ready?” 

“I’ll have it before you retire for sleep. You’ll likely need to be present when I cast it.” 

* * *

True to his word, Merlin located the grimoire and found the correct page before nightfall. The text had been hand-scribed in the language of the Old Religion, but Merlin could translate it without too much difficulty. He was flush with pride at having located the spell unaided and without Gaius’ expertise for a change. He’d made great strides in his spellcasting since arriving in Camelot all those years ago.

The spell required the burning of sandalwood incense and stated that both the caster and the target of the spell would need to make physical contact for the magic to take effect. 

After acquiring the requisite ingredient, Merlin tucked the innocuous looking book under his arm and made for Arthur’s chambers. He wasn’t sure what purpose burning sandalwood would serve for the spell. He knew sandalwood could be used as an aphrodisiac and helped treat impotence, but the spell didn’t specify why it was necessary for the precipitation of pleasant dreams. 

It was no matter. Far be it from him to question the sorcerers of old. 

The guards patrolling the hall outside Arthur’s chambers barely paid Merlin a passing glance, used to his coming and going. He pushed the doors open. 

“It’s about time,” Arthur huffed, which Merlin took to mean, _“I’ve been pining away in your absence and am elated by your return.”_

Merlin wordlessly set the incense alight. The pungent, resin-laden scent soon pervaded the room as thin whorls of smoke rose from the stick of burning sandalwood. He turned to Arthur. “Give me your hand.” 

“Why?” 

“Just do it.” 

Arthur held out his hand palm up. Merlin interlocked their fingers. Arthur’s fingers were thicker, but not as long as Merlin’s were. His palm was roughened and knotted with sword calluses, like a topographical map of a foreign kingdom. Merlin’s traitorous mind couldn’t help imagining Arthur’s hand on other parts of his body. 

Merlin cracked open the book to the earmarked page and began to chant with the full stretch of his lungs. An electric current zinged through him. He watched Arthur give a full-bodied shiver. 

“Well?” He prompted, not releasing Arthur’s palm until he had to. “Do you feel any different?” 

Arthur arched his brows. “You’re asking _me_ if the spell worked? You’re the sorcerer.” 

“Warlock,” Merlin corrected, but Arthur only rolled his eyes at the technicality. “I guess there’s no way to tell until tomorrow. And I can always try a different spell if this one fails.” 

Arthur gave Merlin’s palm a small squeeze before releasing it. Merlin didn’t quite know what to make of the gesture, but he assumed it was an unconscious motion. 

“Let’s ready you for bed. You look dead on your feet.” 

Arthur’s failure to retort was proof of his bone-deep exhaustion. Merlin dressed him for sleep and arranged the covers for him, whispering a discreet relaxation spell as he did so. Arthur’s face slackened and his mouth fell slightly open as his eyes drifted shut. 

He looked younger in his sleep, the ever-present worry lines on his face smoothed away. Merlin gave in to the temptation to brush Arthur’s fringe out of his face in a tender gesture that he would never have dared had Arthur been fully awake. 

After watching Arthur for another stolen moment, he retreated to his own room. He’d spent the bulk of his evening researching the spell for Arthur. His other tasks still waited for him. 

Gaius had asked him to read up on innovative and unconventional folk remedies for common illnesses. He devoted the next hour to an index on tubercular remedies. 

One moment Merlin was blearily reading about extracts of sweet wormwood as a remedy, and the next his surroundings had dissolved. 

He’d been transported outside the castle. He recognized his surroundings, but there was something almost insubstantial about the courtyard and the training ground, as if he were gazing at a painting of it, rather than the real thing. 

“I could take you apart with one blow.”

Merlin’s eyes zeroed in on Arthur’s face, which was suddenly before him. Arthur looked younger, his hair marginally longer and tousled, and his expression exuding confidence. Behind him a band of palace guards and knight hopefuls gathered.

Merlin’s mouth opened and his tongue moved without his permission, following a script from years prior. “I could take you apart with less than that.”

He’d never forgotten their first meeting; how brash he’d been and how insufferably arrogant Arthur was. But what happened next was definitely not how Merlin remembered it.

The scene changed as swiftly as it had materialized. Merlin and Arthur were alone in Arthur’s private chambers.

“Go on then.” Arthur stood behind Merlin, his lips brushing his ear as he spoke. Merlin shivered at the feeling of Arthur’s breath on the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Take me apart. Or were those just empty words?”

Merlin spun to face him, drinking in Arthur’s hooded eyes and leering grin. He felt flushed all over at being the target of Arthur’s lustful gaze. 

“Do you need help walking on your knees?” 

Ooh, just for that comment Merlin had half a mind to put itching powder in Arthur’s smallclothes. Never mind that he found Arthur’s imperious attitude ridiculously hot. 

“I think I can manage just fine, thanks.” Merlin wasted no time dropping to his knees, his shaking fingers reaching for the laces to Arthur’s trousers. Arthur’s cock made a sizeable (and frankly _obscene_ ) bulge in the soft fabric, and all Merlin could think about was getting his mouth around it.

He nuzzled against the fabric-covered bulge, before tugging Arthur’s trousers and smallclothes down to free him. Arthur’s cock jutted proudly, thick and oozing precome from the rosy tip. Arthur wrapped one fist around it and curled his other hand in Merlin’s hair. “Is this what you want?” 

Merlin opened his mouth eagerly, trying to press forward, to get a taste. Arthur’s grip on his hair tightened painfully, holding him in place. 

“Are you sure you deserve it?” 

_Yes, you unbearable prat!_ Merlin wanted to yell, but found for some reason he couldn’t. Instead, he let out a low, desperate whine. 

“Why don’t you tell me how bad you want it?” 

“Please, my lord.” _What?_ He could barely believe those words had left his lips. There was no way Merlin would say those words straight-faced under normal circumstances. His tongue continued to move without his permission. “I want it.” He paused before amending, “I need it.” 

Arthur’s eyes darkened with arousal. His grip on Merlin’s hair slackened. “Show me.” 

Merlin eagerly smeared the wet head against his lips. He curled his tongue around the shaft and gave a small, curious suck at the head. 

“Mm, that’s it. Suck it. Suck me.”

Merlin would’ve been tempted to laugh if he wasn’t so busy moaning around Arthur’s cock. He sucked him down greedily. His mouth watered at the weight of Arthur’s silken cock and the salty tang of him on his tongue. He could feel Arthur’s cock throbbing as he slid farther down. 

Merlin peered up at Arthur from under his lashes. His king was fixed entirely on the stretch of Merlin’s mouth around his girth.

Arthur’s breath left him in a whoosh, and Merlin took that as his signal to pull back a little and deliver another hard suck. He repeated the motion a few times, pulling back to suck, before moving forward to stuff his mouth full of cock. 

Arthur’s hips bucked desperately, both his hands twining in Merlin’s hair in order to thrust into his eager, awaiting mouth. It wasn’t long before Arthur came with a cry, his entire body spasming as he rammed his cock forward. Merlin swallowed around him, dizzy with lust, and somehow not feeling the urge to gag despite Arthur’s deep thrusts. 

Arthur’s face when he came was just about the hottest sight Merlin had ever witnessed. He suckled at Arthur’s softening cock before mouthing at his bollocks and inhaling his musky scent. One of Merlin’s hands migrated to the front of his own trousers. It only took a couple thrusts against his palm before his pleasure crescendoed. 

Everything faded into a blur of colour. His lashes fluttered wildly as he waited for his surroundings to come back into focus. 

Merlin stumbled to his feet, off-kilter and dazed. He was back in his room, as if he’d never left. The only difference was that his small clothes were damp with cooling come and his knees wobbled as if he’d been scrubbing the floor for the past hour. He was eternally grateful Gaius was already asleep. 

What the hell was that? And how could he make it happen again? 

Merlin retrieved the grimoire with a sinking suspicion, flipping to the spell he’d cast to provide Arthur pleasant dreams. 

He ran a finger over the line of text, squinting hard at the flourishes of ink. _Oh._ It would seem he’d made a slight error in translation. The use of sandalwood incense suddenly made a lot more sense. 

* * *

Merlin’s knock on Arthur’s door the following morning was tentative. After witnessing his altered first meeting with Arthur, Merlin had decided there was nothing more he could do in the meantime and that he may as well get some rest. He’d slept soundly through the night, but ‘restful’ seemed the wrong descriptor. His sleep had been… busy. And completely overtaken with dreams of Arthur. Naked. And occupying various positions. Some of which shouldn’t have been anatomically possible.

“Did you sleep all right?” he asked, voice unusually timid, though Arthur didn’t seem to notice. 

“Mm.” Arthur stretched with a languorous sigh, putting his muscular bare chest on display. The very chest Merlin had spent all night dreaming about kissing and sucking and, in one instance, cumming all over. 

“And did you, uh, have pleasant dreams?” 

Arthur made a contented rumble. “I had _fantastic_ dreams. All night long, in fact.” 

“Really?” Merlin struggled to keep his voice neutral and unaffected. “What were they about?” 

Arthur regarded him silently, weighing his words. “They were about you, actually.” 

“Me?” he squeaked, taken aback by Arthur’s ready admittance. 

“Yes. You were being a competent servant for a change.” 

“Really? And how was I servicing you? Serving!” he corrected, cursing his tongue for its slip. 

Arthur’s forehead creased with suspicion. “You’re acting odd today, Merlin. Something you’d like to share?” 

He set Arthur’s breakfast tray at his bedside. “I may have slightly misread the spell.” 

Arthur reached for his goblet and made a gesture for Merlin to continue. 

“I thought the spell sends pleasant dreams, but it actually sends _pleasure_ dreams. And it sort of created a link between us so I can see whatever sex dreams you're having.”

Arthur choked on his drink, some of the juice dribbling down his chin. “What did you see?” 

“Us, for starters. And for the record, when I said I could take you apart, that wasn’t what I meant.” Well, not entirely. 

“It was a dream!” Arthur snapped. “I didn’t have any control over it. And real-world logic doesn’t apply, otherwise I obviously wouldn’t have dreamt about _you_.” 

“Of course not,” Merlin agreed, hoping his disappointment wasn’t obvious. It made sense Arthur would dream about him. He’d been the one to administer the spell, and it had clearly created a link between them. “I’ll find a way to reverse the spell as soon as I can. In fact, I’ll work on it right now. It shouldn’t be difficult to undo.” He turned to leave but halted at the sound of Arthur’s voice. 

“No.” 

“No?” he echoed. 

“I require your presence at today’s council meeting. It’s my hope that we’ll make some actual progress today.” Arthur averted his gaze. “And… and I’d rather have those dreams and be able to sleep through the night than spend it tossing and turning.” 

It wasn’t the highest of praise, being told that someone would choose sex dreams with you over insomnia, but Merlin felt oddly pleased. “So I shouldn’t lift the spell?” he clarified. 

“Not until you find an alternate spell that will accomplish the original goal of sending me pleasant dreams.” 

“Oh. All right.” He frowned. “But it might take me a while to find such a spell.” He was capable of performing magic without incantations to guide him, but it was often with simpler goals in mind, like felling a tree or lighting the hearth. Something as complex as improving sleep quality by providing good dreams was not one of Merlin’s innate talents. 

“I understand.” 

Did he really? Until Merlin lifted the spell, Arthur would be resigned to having repeated sex dreams while he slept. Sex dreams about _Merlin_. Why wasn’t he more upset about that? Or visibly disgusted? “Your sheets might need washing more often,” Merlin pointed out. 

Arthur bared his teeth in possibly the most terrifying smile Merlin had ever seen. “That’s fine. Because you’ll be the one cleaning them.”

Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder when Merlin grimaced. 

“Cheer up. I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve had to launder soiled sheets.”

“Yes,” Merlin conceded, “but usually when I clean stained sheets it’s because I contributed to the mess.” _What the hell._ What was he saying? That almost sounded like he was complaining about Arthur potentially cumming across his own sheets without Merlin’s participation. Could he be anymore transparent? 

“Right.” Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, you’ll just have to make do. Now, let’s get going. The sooner we start the meeting the sooner it’ll be finished.” 

* * *

Merlin couldn’t discern why Arthur had thought they’d make any significant progress during today’s council meeting. It seemed as fruitless as it had last week.

The same stubborn, traditionalist noblemen continued to embark on lengthy diatribes about how legalizing sorcery was the first steppingstone towards the collapse of Camelot.

Merlin studied the grain in the table and traced a small burn mark while he waited for the current ranting noble to run out of steam. As he stared at the lacquered surface of the table, an image appeared unbidden in his mind’s eye. 

Arthur was fully clothed on the throne, with only the laces of his trousers undone. Merlin, meanwhile, was entirely nude and straddling his lap. One of Merlin’s hands was braced on Arthur’s shoulder, while the other thrust slick fingers into his own entrance. 

Arthur looked bored while Merlin rutted desperately against him, all the while begging for his cock. “Please, sire,” he panted against the hollow of Arthur’s throat. “Please. I need it.” “Very well, then,” Arthur said in a magnanimous voice. “Take a seat.” 

The Merlin in the fantasy sat back, impaling himself on Arthur’s fat cock and letting out a wail as he did so.

Merlin must have released an involuntary noise at the imagery because several heads turned in his direction. He disguised the noise with a cough. The image of him sinking onto Arthur’s prick momentarily fizzled out as Arthur glanced sidelong at Merlin.

He tried to keep his face impassive. This was not good. It seemed the spell wasn’t constrained to Arthur’s unconscious dreams; it also affected his daydreams. 

Was there some condition of the spell that Arthur could only fantasize about Merlin? If not, why was he still imagining them together even while conscious? And why didn’t he look bothered or uncomfortable at the idea of having throne sex with Merlin of all people? 

And it had to be Arthur’s daydream Merlin was witnessing now. No other explanation made sense. Merlin waited a few minutes before flicking his gaze towards Arthur. Arthur nodded in all the right places while the council discussed the new legislature, and made appropriate noises of agreement, but now that Merlin watched closely, he could see Arthur wasn’t wholly focused on the repetitive proceedings. To everyone else he may seem attentive, but Merlin realized his mind had wandered. 

Worst of all, Merlin could feel his own cock plumping in his trousers. The Merlin in Arthur’s fantasy was moaning like a harlot as he lifted his hips and dropped back down on Arthur’s arousal. Merlin barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Even in Arthur’s fantasies, Merlin was the one stuck doing all the work. 

Not that he exactly minded the thought of riding Arthur. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t imagined sinking down onto that fat cock before, but it would have been nice for Arthur to actually contribute for a change, or maybe meet Merlin halfway on his downward thrusts. 

The longer Arthur’s fantasy went on, the harder Merlin got. The fantasy was so lurid, he fancied for a moment he could almost feel Arthur entering him. He squirmed on his chair. 

His erection strained against his trousers, and he had to reach down under the table and give it a surreptitious squeeze in order to stave off his orgasm. No way was he cumming in the middle of a council meeting. Especially one revolving around a subject as serious as repealing the ban. 

The meeting seemed to go on for ages, until finally they broke for recess. 

“Are you all right, Merlin?” Gwaine’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re looking a little flushed.” 

“Fine!” He squeaked. “I’m fine. I just need to um—leave.” He proceeded to make the most awkward, ungainly escape in history. 

As soon as he reached the physician’s quarters, Merlin scurried into his bedroom and flicked the lock shut before collapsing onto his bed. He’d been throbbing inside his small clothes since the council meeting. Damn Arthur and his perverted mind. He palmed himself through his trousers, before dispensing of his pants altogether.

He pumped himself hard and fast, fucking into his fist as he imagined the lewd image of him riding Arthur on his throne. It was entirely his own fantasy this time, but he had no qualms continuing where Arthur’s daydream had left off. Merlin reached a shuddering climax in an embarrassingly swift amount of time. 

Once the aftershocks had worn off, Merlin tugged his trousers back on and tucked his still-twitching cock away. He was tempted to lie in bed for a few minutes to bask in what was one of the best orgasms he’d had in ages, but it was a luxury he didn’t have time to indulge in. 

This was getting out of hand. Merlin didn’t fancy sporting a hardon during every council meeting. Knowing Uther’s knights, they’d take it as evidence that all sorcerers were perverts, in addition to wicked and monstrous. 

He had to talk to Gaius. 

* * *

“How could you be so foolish?” Gaius had uttered those words so frequently over the years that their impact on Merlin had diminished.

“I thought it was the right spell!” 

Gaius sighed. “If good dreams were so easy to create, I would have given them to Morgana years ago to ease her nightmares. The mind is a tricky thing, Merlin. Using magic on one’s psyche should be avoided whenever possible.”

“Yes, yes, I understand, but what do I do? It was one thing for it to send Arthur sex dreams at night, but now he’s having fantasies during the day!” 

“Have you tried removing the spell?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Perhaps it would be prudent to do so.” 

Merlin threw up his hands. “I can’t! Arthur told me not to. He said he’d rather have these dreams and be able to sleep through the night than wake up every couple of hours from nightmares.” 

“Then I suppose you’d better respect his wishes.” 

“But—but—” Merlin floundered for words. “It’s affecting me too! I can see his dreams. And his daydreams!” _And they’re about me_ , he wisely did not add. 

“Have you informed King Arthur of this?” 

“Not the daydream part.” 

_“Merlin.”_

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell him.” Preferably later. And after plying him with wine and sweetmeats. His temperament always improved after he had something sweet. 

“Now, Merlin. The council is assembling right after supper, and I don’t suppose you’d like to have this conversation with Arthur in front of all the nobles.” 

Merlin’s shoulders drooped in defeat. “Fine.” He slunk out of the room under Gaius’ gimlet stare. 

* * *

Merlin had every intention of following through on his word. Only, he hadn’t made any promise about being prompt. He dragged his feet through the corridors and stopped for a not inconsiderable amount of time to catch up on gossip with Gwen.

Despite his dawdling, he was halfway to Arthur’s chambers when _it_ happened again. 

Merlin’s vision rippled, the sight of the stone corridor displaced by an image of the very place he was heading towards: Arthur’s bedchambers. 

The Merlin in Arthur’s fantasy was fully clothed. So was Arthur, for that matter. Merlin’s arms were crossed over his chest in a look of perfect nonchalance. His voice was casual, as if he were remarking on the weather or a matter of equal inconsequence. “You know, sire, I think it’s about time I give you a demonstration of all my magic can do.” His lips twitched. “Assuming you’d be able to handle me.” 

Arthur’s eyes darkened at the challenge. “Do your worst.” 

With a wave of his hand, Arthur’s clothes vanished. Arthur’s cock was already half-hard, but Merlin’s magic made him harden fully in seconds. His cock visibly throbbed, and precome bubbled at the tip, even though Merlin had yet to touch him. 

“It makes you hot, doesn’t it? My magic?” 

Arthur’s cock jolted in answer. 

That was interesting. Thus far, Merlin had been the submissive partner in Arthur’s fantasies, and he never would have guessed that Arthur would find the prospect of Merlin’s magic appealing in a sexual manner. If Merlin squinted, he could still make out the row of torches in the stone walls and its various recesses and alcoves, but Arthur’s daydream was stronger, taking up his focus and line of sight. 

“Get on the bed.” The Merlin in Arthur’s fantasy ordered. 

Even though his arousal was red and needy, Arthur’s jaw jutted, stubborn as ever. “Make me.” 

Merlin’s magic maneuvered Arthur onto the bed with ease and pinned him there, his arms stretched above his head. He strained against the invisible bonds, but they refused to give. Merlin crawled over him, still fully clothed. He dragged his gaze from Arthur’s slack mouth to his bare, heaving chest, and finally down to his full, heavy cock. 

“There’s another reason you want to legalize sorcery, isn’t there?” Merlin’s voice dropped. “You want me to use my magic on you and put you in your place.” 

Arthur took an audible, shuddering breath. Merlin flexed his fingers, and an invisible coil of magic encircled the dark, rigid curve of Arthur’s cock. The tendril of magic kneaded his cock, milking drops of precum from it. 

Merlin sent another coil of magic to massage Arthur’s nipples until they formed taut peaks. Arthur writhed at the sensation. Merlin assessed Arthur’s aroused state with a clinical detachment that somehow made the fantasy hotter. With another burst of magic, he flipped Arthur over so that he was lying on his stomach. 

An additional magic tendril caressed feather-light against the inside of Arthur’s thighs, before question towards his hole. It massaged the area, pressing against his opening, but never breaching it. 

“I think I’ll fuck you with my magic first, get you loose and ready for me before I give you my cock.” 

Arthur’s only reply was a drawn-out moan. 

Merlin leaned closer, brushing his lips against the back of Arthur’s neck. He explored the planes of Arthur’s back with his hands, before reaching the sensitive skin between his arse and balls. While he touched with his fingers, the coil of magic finally slipped inside, its ingress eased with conjured slick. 

Arthur’s arse clamped around the tendril of Merlin’s magic, his back arching into the pure, electrifying sensation. With a flash of gold eyes, the thin, sinuous tendril of magic fucking in and out of Arthur swelled in size, stretching him with each inward thrust. When the conjured tendril brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside him, Arthur let out a sob. 

He craned his neck to look back. “Merlin. Merlin, please.” Sweat beaded along Arthur’s hairline, matting his golden locks. “I need you.” 

Merlin’s fingers dug into the fleshy swell of Arthur’s arse. He was never one to deny his King. He didn’t pause to locate a bottle of oil. Instead, he muttered a spell that slickened his cock and left Arthur’s entrance dripping and gaping open, begging to be filled. Merlin was happy to oblige. 

Magic restraints secured Arthur in place and raised his hips so that he was positioned for Merlin to thrust inside. He set a merciless pace, slamming inside Arthur until his king was jerking and shuddering beneath him. Arthur was the perfect tightness around his throbbing arousal.

Arthur devolved into full-body spasms, gasping at each sizzling brush of Merlin’s magic while his cock plundered him. The fantasy fizzled out sooner than Merlin would have liked. With a final, harsh thrust, Arthur in the fantasy was coming, and Merlin—the real one—returned to full awareness to find liquid heat of his release dampening his trousers. 

He had just come in the middle of the corridor. At least no one was around to witness—

A choked cough sounded nearby. Merlin whipped his head around, locking eyes with a scandalized looking maid. Her cheeks were cherry red and her eyes as wide as newly minted coins. 

Merlin’s lips moved soundlessly. “It’s not—I’m not—” 

She ducked her head behind her pile of laundry and scurried away. 

“—a pervert,” he finished lamely. And he _wasn’t._ This was all Arthur’s fault! Well, at least seventy-five percent Arthur’s fault. 

God, this was probably the most mortifying thing he’d ever endured. Knowing the castle staff’s proclivity for gossip, himself included, he could probably expect the entire castle to know about his perverted ways before nightfall. 

Merlin released a long-suffering sigh before trudging to Arthur’s chambers. He had to put a stop to this. While he had no complaints about the contents of Arthur’s daydreams and fantasies, his timing was presenting an issue. 

Privately, Merlin was gratified that he and Arthur shared some of the same kinks. There was something undeniably compelling about reducing Arthur to a desperate, begging mess, and having him at Merlin’s mercy for a change. Merlin had also had no shortage of past fantasies about using his magic to elicit pleasure from Arthur. 

It was almost uncanny that Arthur should so closely share his fantasies. Especially considering Arthur would never fantasize about Merlin under normal circumstances. 

A sudden wave of guilt curdled in his stomach. What if Arthur hadn’t wanted that particular fantasy? What if Merlin's personal desires were shaping Arthur’s? And what if these daydreams were actually a direct product of Merlin’s wishes? 

His head hurt trying to parse it out. He didn’t know enough about the logistics of the spell, but one thing was clear. The spell had gone on for long enough. 

Merlin waved away evidence of his orgasm with a spell, before steeling himself and marching the rest of the way to Arthur’s chambers. 

He pushed open the door. Arthur was in his bed. Shirtless. And looking remarkably dishevelled considering his lack of a bed partner. 

Merlin licked his dry, chapped lips before he spoke. “We need to talk.” 

Arthur jerked upright. “Gods, Merlin. Don’t you ever knock?” 

“No,” he answered honestly. He didn’t intend to start, either. “Um, so, about the spell I cast on you.” 

“Did you find an alternate one that will ensure pleasant dreams?” 

“No, but I made a new discovery.” 

Arthur propped an arm on his hip. “Do tell.” 

“Ah, so, you already know that I mistranslated ‘pleasure dreams’ as ‘pleasant dreams.’ It turns out that the word I translated to mean ‘dreams’ also refers to daydreams?” 

“I haven’t all day, Merlin. Get to the point.” 

“I’m not only privy to your dreams. I also witness your daydreams.”

“You _what_?” 

“Y’know. Your fantasy of me riding you on your throne. And the other one. Just now. Of me—”

“Merlin,” Arthur interrupted. The low rumble of Arthur’s voice sent heat pooling in Merlin’s gut. “It is a good thing you have magic to protect you because I’m seriously contemplating throttling you.” 

“Is that another fetish of yours?”

“Merlin!” 

“Sorry.” 

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should have you pilloried for this.”

“I didn’t know this would happen!” 

Arthur stared for a long while. When he spoke, it was in a careful diction, each word enunciated clearly. “You are an idiot.”

For once, Merlin had to agree. “Oops?” he offered.

“But God help me, you're my idiot,” Arthur muttered, before colouring as he realized what he'd said. “I meant—” 

“I know what you meant!” Merlin interrupted shrilly. “I'm still your manservant. By some miracle you haven't gotten rid of me yet.”

“Despite my best efforts,” Arthur rejoined, his words harsher than normal. 

“I’m sorry, all right?” Merlin wrung his hands nervously. “I know you’re angry.”

Arthur’s shoulders deflated. “I’m not angry.” He scrubbed a tired hand down his face. “I’m mostly just. Embarrassed.”

“O-oh. Well, if it’s any consolation, you have a good imagination?”

“What?” 

“Er, I mean you’re very creative? In the, um, scenarios that you picked. They were… versatile.” Merlin really had no idea why he was still talking. 

Arthur was silent for several beats. “Shouldn’t you be uncomfortable?” he asked slowly. “I’ve been defiling you in my dreams.” 

Technically, Merlin had done some of the defiling as well. “Oh, well, it’s not like you chose to dream about me. It’s only because I was the one who cast the spell. Otherwise you’d probably be fantasizing about some princess. Or something.” 

Arthur bit his lip. “What if that’s not why?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What if that’s not the reason I’ve been fantasizing about you?”

“I don’t understand.” 

Arthur hesitated. “What if, for instance, I was dreaming about you because I desire you. And only you.” Arthur didn’t voice it like a question. 

Merlin’s brow furrowed. “But that’s… ridiculous.” When Arthur flinched almost imperceptibly at Merlin’s words, he tried to gentle his tone. “You’re only saying this because the magic’s confusing you.” 

“You think me confused?”

“I know you are. It’s like I said, the magic forged a link between us. We’ll be back to normal as soon as it’s lifted.” 

Arthur’s expression closed off, his gaze hardening. “I’ll be attending council alone for the remainder of the day.” 

“You don’t want me with you?” 

“You’re dismissed for the day. I suspect you’ll be busy enough removing the spell.” 

Merlin frowned. “Wait, you don’t want the spell anymore?” 

“That’s what I just said. And while you’re removing the spell, you might want to consider enhancing your hearing with magic as well. If your ears weren’t already so big, I would’ve recommended enlarging them.” Arthur yanked on his red tunic and strode out of the room before Merlin could reply with an undoubtedly witty retort. 

Merlin raised a self-conscious hand to his ear. Arthur hadn’t made any remarks about Merlin’s ears for ages. Arthur knew he was sensitive about them, and only made jabs about them in the event that Merlin overstepped. 

“Prat,” Merlin muttered, even though no one was around to hear it. 

* * *

Merlin moped all evening. The spell was simple to lift. He was tempted to let it continue a little longer in order to punish Arthur, but ultimately decided against it. They’d both endured enough.

With Gaius attending the council meeting, he had the physician’s quarters all to himself. After removing the spell, he tidied up and scrubbed dried potion residue from bottles and beakers. The counters were polished and glossy and the floor sparkling by the time he was finished. 

He completed every possible chore Gaius could require of him (except for emptying the leech tank).

The evening dragged on. He couldn’t bring himself to relax. Arguments with Arthur always left him on edge, especially when he couldn’t pinpoint the precise cause of Arthur’s anger. 

He deserved a raise for dealing with the world’s biggest clotpole. Why was Arthur so upset, anyway? He’d apologized for mistranslating the spell, and Arthur had assured him he wasn’t angry, although he’d changed his tune quite quickly. 

When Gaius returned that night from the council meeting, Merlin pounced. “How did it go? Did anything new happen?” 

Gaius’ face was unreadable. “I’m not allowed to discuss private council matters.” 

“What?” Merlin spluttered. “But I’m part of the council!”

“If you were, then you would have been invited to attend.” 

“But—” 

“I’m sorry, Merlin. King Arthur explicitly told me not to disclose the meeting to _anyone._ ” 

Merlin bit his tongue to prevent himself from pointing out that he wasn’t just _anyone_. He was the King’s manservant. And more than that he was his… well, his friend. Or at least, he’d thought he was. 

“King Arthur also asked me to forward a message to you.” 

“What is it?” 

Gaius assessed him silently. “He does not want you to attend tomorrow’s meeting either.” 

* * *

Merlin didn’t leave his room all morning, not even to bring Arthur breakfast. The damn prat could get his own breakfast for a change.

Merlin pointedly ignored Gaius’ mutterings about layabouts and melodrama. 

It served Arthur right. If he was going to shut Merlin out, then he was going to ignore him right back. 

Their strange avoidance of each other lasted another three days, before George knocked at Merlin’s room. 

“What do you want?” Merlin demanded. 

“His illustrious majesty has requested your presence in the throne room.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes. “And what does his illustriousness want?” 

George made an affronted noise. “It is not our place to question what his royal highness requests.” 

“Right. If he asks where I am, tell him I’m too busy to attend.” 

A convenient, possibly magically summoned breeze shut the door in George’s face before he could respond. 

* * *

When the door to Merlin’s bedroom opened a second time several hours later, he expected to see George or Gaius on the other end intent on reprimanding him. Instead, it was Arthur, clutching a ream of paper and looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. 

Merlin crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips, conveying that he had no intention of speaking first. 

Arthur cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the floor. “We missed you today in the throne room.” His gaze flickered to Merlin’s face, before settling on some distant fixture. “ _I_ missed you,” he amended, to Merlin’s surprise. “I had an important announcement, actually. I’d wanted you to be there to hear it, but everyone had already gathered, and I couldn’t exactly wait.” 

“Sorry,” Merlin said in an entirely unconvincing voice. “I was still labouring under the impression that you _didn’t_ want me around.” 

“I always want you around.” 

“Really? Then why did you have me barred from attending council the past few days?” 

“It wasn’t because of the spell.” 

“Huh?” 

Arthur closed his eyes, exhaling heavily. “I didn’t fantasize about you because of the spell. I fantasized about you because you’re the one I always think of when I…” Arthur made a complex gesture that Merlin assumed meant ‘have a wank’. 

“What are you saying?” 

Arthur forced himself to meet Merlin’s gaze. “I’m saying that the sex dream I had about you the night you cast the spell on me was hardly the first one I’ve had about you. It wasn’t magic or a spell that made me dream about you. I’ve wanted you for ages. And I… I’m in love with you.”

Merlin’s heart thundered in his ears. “I swear to God, Arthur, if you’re taking the piss right now—” 

“I’m not, I swear. I love you, Merlin. And I understand completely if you don’t share my feelings, especially after how I’ve treated you the past couple days. But I wanted to tell you that in the throne room today I formally announced the dictum that sorcerers are free citizens and welcome to practice magic within Camelot’s borders.” 

Merlin’s breath seized in his chest. “You _what_?” 

“Here.” Arthur held out the bundle of paper for his perusal. “This is the official legislation.” 

Merlin made no move to take the papers or read them for himself. Instead, he flew into Arthur’s arms, the stack of legislation hitting the floor with a dull thud.

The only recourse Merlin could think of was to kiss him. Arthur made a surprised but pleased noise beneath his lips. His arms encircled Merlin's waist, holding their bodies together. 

Arthur had made his greatest wish come true. And now that Merlin had seen Arthur’s private fantasies, he intended to repay him by making some of them come true as well.


End file.
